I Love You
by Christina Crowriddle
Summary: Why can't it be the way it was before? .o TFA Oneshot drabble, contains slash, twincest, suggestive themes and ANGST. Stupid, meaningless, just an outlet. You have been warned.


**A/N:**** I know I should be working on Affection Unbound, but I'm having a massive inspiration stand-by. Besides, I was feeling angsty. So here's the stupid angsty drabble that makes no sense and serves as nothing but an outlet. I've no idea why I wrote this, much less why I decided to post it.**

**WARNINGS! Contains mechxmech SLASH, SEXUAL THEMES, FIRST PERSON POV, ANGST AND TWINCEST! Don't like don't read. No flames, please.**

**TF belongs to Hasbro. I am, however, responsible for my own stupidity.**

**666**

_Forever_.

That's what we promised to each other years ago. That we would be together till the end, he would be mine and I would be his.

I remember how we used to sneak into our quarters, glossas entangled. I would push him down on our berth, and he would stare at me with that beautiful smile, big yellow optics sparkling brightly, right before kneading my interface panel with that hot hand of his.

We were happy like that. _I_ was happy. My aqua optics had a spark in them.

Jetfire was my life, my everything. He was the only one who could pull me out of my frigid world of ice and wind, a constant, burning sun able to melt the wall around my Spark.

Then they found out. The _other_ people.

We expected them to jell, to slap us and lock us up in a brig. _Separately._ They were displeased that my brother and I were so _close._ Very displeased.

Instead, they sat us down and spoke to us. They explained that what we were doing was not ugly, not abnormal. But it was not to be done between siblings. They said it was forbidden. _Sacrilegious,_ even. It needed to stop.

I accepted their words as law.

Jetfire took them to the Spark.

How a mech could change his emotions so quicky, jet stay the same mech he was, is beyond me. I watch him as he twirls around the common room, optics sparkling with never ending joy and wonder as he chatters with his friends. Somebot sneaks an arm around his waist and turns him around, kissing him on the mouth. I feel anger burning hotly inside my icy Spark, and every cog of by being screams and trembles with the urge to maim, destroy, kill _kill_ _**kill**__._

I expect my brother to recoil, to smack the mech for touching him without permission. Instead, I watch in shock, optics wide, as he wraps his arms around the mechs arms and _kisses. Back._ And, as he gives him the smile he gave _me_ not all that long ago, I can practically _hear_ my Spark shattering into millions of tiny, unsalvagable pieces.

666

I asked for separate quarters.

They are suprised, wanted to know why. I told them what they wanted to hear. I said my brother and I are growing up, we both need more space.

My very first lie.

The truth? The temptation to take my brother again is simply _far too great_ to stand.

It is a simple room, really, with light blue walls and a small berth, table and a chair. And empty datapads, mine to fill with whatever I find fit.

I feel my brother's displeasure trough our sibling bond, anger at me for not saying anything about moving out. I soothe his wild rantings, stating it was for the best, I did it for him, so he could have space for that _huge_ stereo he _so_ desperately wanted. Gratitude seeps trough and he says: _I love you_.

My Spark stops. Everything stops. For a moment, my hopes soar higher than the two of us ever did.

Just before crashing like a stone on the hard, unforgiving ground.

It's not _the _love. Not the love we bathed each other in _before_. This is simple, sibling love. Nothing more.

666

We're drifting apart, I can tell. Jetfire surrounds himself with so many people, giving the world the smile that was only _mine._ I watch him as he highdives into relationships with pure optimism and innocence. He always had a wild Spark. Fire by its nature is impossible to control, and my brother is the live embodiment of it.

My optics are covered with the visor now. I'm too ashamed to show the world how I truly feel. They no longer shine, they're dead _dead_ _**dead**_, like the optics of a sharkticon.

He turns to me and flashes me a smile, and I can't help but smile back, the first genuine smile I gave for months.

666

I sit on the sill of my round window, staring into the space. I close myself in, seeking solace in the lonely silence of my room.

This is so _wrong_. I'm supposed to be happy for his happiness. I should be sharing his joy, that's what brothers _do._

But I can't.

...I'm so _selfish._

Our bond is stretched thin, oh so thin, and I press into it, trying to will my side of the conciousness to merge with his again.

No avail. I can only feel the tendrils of his mind. A hot lump forms in my throat and my face flushes, oily tears welling up behind the wretched visor.

Pulling back, dejected, I let tears slip down my face. I try to keep calm, keep silent, but very soon I'm hiding my face in my knees, choking on my own sobs, struggling for an inhale. I draw my side further back in without hesitance. I can't allow him to feel even a fraction of what I feel, the betreyal, the loneliness_, fear_, _rage_**, **_**pain**__._ As long as he's silent, I know my efforts are successful.

I jump to my peds and let out a savage scream, and the room is engulfed in freezing, wild winds, the covers of my berth flying up, datapads scattering across the floor.

I feel my brother's distress just as he slips into my room. The wind stops instantly, and he wraps his warm arms around my front. I look down at him, not daring to return the embrace.

"Brother…what is being wrong?"

I can't tell him. I don't have a Spark to tell him. I wrap my arms around his small shoulders instead, burying my face into his neck and inhaling deeply, desperately trying to memorize and imprint his fierce scent onto my frame. I cradle his helm in my cold servos, kissing his cheek, and he leans into the touch.

"Nothing, brother."

We slump to the ground, falling to our knees – my weight pulling us both down.

"You are knowing I love you, right, Jetstorm?"

There's this…_chastity _in his voice, and I know what he means is not what I crave to hear. Nevertheless, I smile at the words.

"And I, you, Jetfire."

And I did. In more ways than one. _Oh _how I loved him.

He kisses my damp cheek, and I realize, as our sibling bond grows stronger than ever before, that, even though _forever_ turned into _never again_, brotherly love we share is the truest love that exists. And _that_ love stays even when everything fades to black.


End file.
